


The Boy Who Cried Wolf

by marnersmiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Eloping, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Stiles' friends are kind of shitty, Wedding, but they mean well, except for Isaac he's just an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marnersmiles/pseuds/marnersmiles
Summary: Stiles, a compulsive liar, really wishes people would believe him just this once.5 times no one believes Stiles when he says he's dating Derek and the 1 time he shows them all.





	The Boy Who Cried Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> I’m a sucker for fics where no one believes Stiles is dating Derek, so I decided to write my own with a little twist. It was supposed to be a short little thing just to get this idea out of my head, but then it went and grew a mind of its own and turned into the longest thing I’ve ever written.

The thing is, Stiles lies a lot. He doesn’t know _why_ he does it, just knows that when he opens his mouth, a lie will slip out without him even meaning to. Sometimes it’s something stupid and inconsequential like, “Yeah, Dad, I did my homework.” Other times, well, other times it _matters,_ it’s about something big, but he still finds himself saying, “Yeah, I was accepted into Harvard.” even though he _wasn’t_ and _everyone knows that._

It’s no surprise to Stiles when no one believes him when he says he’s dating Derek. After all, how can they trust the boy who continually makes up falsities to make himself look better? It still hurts like hell, though, because the one time Stiles is _actually_ telling the truth, even his closest friends and family brush him off.

* * *

1\. Scott (One month into the relationship)

Stiles paces back and forth across Scott’s bedroom, staring resolutely at his feet. He’s not really sure where Scott is at the moment, he wasn’t here when Stiles let himself in twenty minutes ago, but Stiles doesn’t mind too much. The longer Scott’s away, the longer he has to think about what he’s about to do, what he’s about to tell Scott.

He doesn’t think Scott will judge him for being gay. Obviously he doesn’t. Scott is his best friend, is practically his brother at this point, and Stiles knows he would never judge him for something like this. On top of that, Scott is the most loving person on the planet, doesn’t have a single hateful bone in his body. Stiles is positive Scott would rather die than make someone feel bad for their sexuality.

No, Stiles isn’t worried about coming out to Scott. He’s worried about what comes _after,_ when Stiles tells him exactly who it is that made him have his big gay awakening.

“Stiles?” Stiles jumps, stops his pacing as his head snaps up to look at who spoke. Scott is standing in the doorway, staring at Stiles, a look of confusion on his face.

“Hey, Scotty-boy!” he exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“In my bedroom? Yeah, what a coincidence.” He shakes his head, but other than that is seemingly unfazed. He’s known Stiles for over a decade now, after all, he’s clearly used to his antics. He walks forward and haphazardly tosses his backpack on the floor, then takes a seat at his desk. “What’s up, man?”

Stiles takes a deep breath, then lets everything come spilling out in a rush, “So, the thing is, as it turns out, I’m gay. Like, super into dudes, I love dicks—well, more specifically, I love one dick, but that’s not the point. Not yet, anyways.” He pauses to take a breath, then jumps right back in before Scott can even open his mouth. “And I know you would never judge me for that! Of course you wouldn’t! You’re my boy!”

He stops again, then, calmer, says, “So, yeah, that’s what’s up. I’m gay.”

He stares at Scott, who had gone still at his outburst. The moment stretches on for a minute as Scott processes what Stiles said. Stiles brings his thumb to his mouth and begins biting at his cuticles, a bad habit he picked up that’s stuck around and makes an appearance any time he’s nervous.

Finally, Scott smiles up at him. “Thanks for telling me that, man.” He stands up and walks over to Stiles in two big strides, wraps his arms around him and squeezes so hard Stiles thinks he might break a rib.

“Werewolf strength, buddy, watch it,” Stiles warns, and Scott immediately loosens his grip.

“Shit, yeah, sorry.” He steps back, looking a little sheepish. “I love you, you know that, right? You’re my brother, and nothing’s going to change that.”

“Glad to hear you say that, dude, because I have more to tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to be as accepting of this next bit.”

See, the thing is, Scott loves Stiles, would take a bullet for him. Stiles knows this. But Derek? Scott _hates_ Derek, would be more likely to shoot him than jump in front of a bullet for him. Which is exactly what’s got Stiles so worked up, because he loves Scott, but he loves Derek too, now, and he really doesn’t know how Scott is going to react to that revelation.

“Maybe you should sit down again.”

Scott, stricken by Stiles’ sudden seriousness, complies. He drops down onto the edge of his bed, worry etched on his face as he stares at Stiles.

“Shit, dude, you’re not dying, right? You didn’t come out to me because you’re going to die and didn’t want to have any secrets, right?”

“Jesus, no, Scott. Nothing like that. It’s just that—well, I’m seeing someone.”

A sigh of relief bursts out of Scott, and then he’s glaring at Stiles. “You scared me, you prick! I thought you were dying, and all you had to tell me is that you have a boyfriend? That’s a great thing!”

“I mean, yeah, it’s great for me, I just don’t know how you’re going to take it when you find out who. You don’t exactly get along with him.”

“It’s not Derek, is it?” Scott asks, obviously joking.

Stiles stays silent for a moment, then, quietly, “It’s Derek.”

Scott, to Stiles’ surprise, huffs out a laugh. “Okay, man, if you don’t want to tell me who it actually is, you don’t have to. But you don’t have to lie and pretend to be dating Derek.” Stiles opens his mouth to respond, to tell Scott that it _is_ Derek—he’s _dating Derek,_ is _in love with Derek_ —but Scott is already up and off the bed and walking to the door. “Hey, I’m gonna go make some popcorn, pick a movie out, will you?”

And then he’s out the door, bounding down the stairs to the kitchen, and all Stiles can do is stare at the door, dumbfounded.

The one time he tells the truth, and Scott doesn’t believe him. Of course.

* * *

2\. Melissa (Three months into the relationship)

Stiles can’t believe he’s actually doing this. He stands outside of the hospital, reconsidering what he’s about to do. He could just go home and look some stuff up on the Internet—he’s the king of research, after all, he can totally get by without Melissa’s help. But Melissa is a nurse, she knows what she’s talking about, and, even more importantly, she’s a _mother_ , and he could really use a little motherly advice right about now, so he powers through, doesn’t think of the embarrassment that is sure to come, and walks into the hospital.

He finds her at the front desk, looking through a patient’s chart. She smiles when she looks up and sees him.

“Hey, Stiles, is everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, everything’s good, sort of. Can I, uh, talk to you about something? Somewhere more private?”

“Sure, honey.” She hands the chart off to another nurse and steps out from behind the desk. A warm, comforting hand makes its way to Stiles’ shoulder. “Come on.”

Somewhere more private, as it turns out, is the hospital cafeteria. It’s less than ideal, but Melissa explains that the hospital is currently at capacity so there are no empty rooms for them to commandeer.

“Don’t worry, no one around here is listening.” She gestures to the other cafeteria patrons, who are all either having their own conversations or are so lost in their own thoughts that even a natural disaster probably couldn’t break them out. “What’s going on?”

“I need advice.” He takes a steadying breath, let’s it out and says, “I’m gay.”

Melissa, for what it’s worth, takes the news in stride. She places her hand over his own and squeezes. “Okay. Is that what you need advice about?”

“Sort of.” He flounders, unsure of how to phrase what’s he’s about to say. His mouth opens and closes multiple times, but nothing comes out.

“It’s okay, Stiles. Just tell me what’s going on.”

And Stiles, for all he loves to talk, is still at a loss for words. “Okay.” He draws in a steadying breath. “Okay, I can do this.”

Melissa nods encouragingly, patiently waits while he sorts his thoughts. All the while, her hand never leaves his. It’s comforting, having a mother’s touch in a difficult moment, even if it’s not his own mother’s.

“So, the thing is, I have a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure it’s serious, you know?” He stops, reconsiders. “No, I know it’s serious. I love him. I love him _a lot_ and that kind of scares me? It’s so much more than what I ever felt for Lydia, and it’s overwhelming. And I know he loves me too, even if he’s not the best at expressing it. What we have is _good._ We get each other and we _work_. But, like, I’m still scared, you know? I’ve never felt like this and every time something good happens around here, it all goes to shit. I’m terrified and I think I just need to be told that it’s going to be alright .” And okay, wow, that’s not what he meant to say at all. That’s not what he even came here to talk about!

Her voice is light when she speaks, “Oh, honey, of course it’s going to be alright. Love is scary, sometimes. It’s hard to open yourself up and trust that this other person won’t hurt you. But you’re happy, aren’t you?” He nods. “Then it’s worth it, isn’t it? Should you deny yourself this happiness because you’re scared of what ifs?”

A weight lifts off his shoulders as he registers what she said. She’s right, of course. Things are good now, he and Derek are solid, he shouldn’t ruin that because he’s scared it might go bad in the future.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a pretty smart lady, Melissa McCall?”

“Not as often as they should.” She smiles at him, warm and comforting, her love for him written clear across her face. He startles as he feels a tear streak down his face, and he quickly reaches up a hand to wipe it away.

“Thank you for being here for me. You’re the closest thing I have to a mom now.” And now Melissa is crying too, her eyes shining and wet. Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood and move away from the sap-fest he inadvertently created, Stiles says, “That’s not even what I wanted to talk about! This conversation was supposed to be much more embarrassing!”

Melissa laughs. “There’s still time for that. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me? I’ll be sure to bring the embarrassment level up to a ten, just for you.”

“God, no, that’s not necessary. Normal levels of embarrassment, please.” Melissa nods, makes a ‘go on’ gesture. “Right, so, you know about my big gay love now. The thing is, like, I want to have sex with him? But I’ve never done that before, with anyone, male or female. And that’s scary, but also I don’t know how to bring it up? It took us months to even kiss, so, like, it could reasonably take us years before either of us gets the nerve to just go for it, but I don’t want to wait years, I want to be sexed up now!”

And there goes the normal levels of embarrassment, because Stiles has just gone and made this just about as embarrassing as possible.

“Okay, wow, Stiles, can’t say that’s what I was expecting.” Now she’s the one floundering, at a loss for words. “Right, okay, let’s figure this out. Are you sure you’re ready for sex?”

“Positive. So ready. You don’t even know.”

“And what about him?”

“I mean, I think he’s interested in it? He has kind of a shitty history with relationships and sex, but he’s never said anything against it? We’ve fooled around before.” Stiles blushes, cursing his lack of brain to mouth filter.

“You’re an adult, now, Stiles, and you’re in an adult relationship. It sounds to me like you need to _talk_ to him, and if you can’t do that, then you’re not ready for sex.”

“Right, of course, communication is key and all that.”

“Exactly. And please, for the love of God, Stiles, be safe. I can get you some pamphlets, if you’d like?” It’s phrased like a question, but the look in her eye says he has no choice in the matter, and he’s sure he’s going to come home sometime in the next few days and find a stack of pamphlets about the joys of safe gay sex on his nightstand.

“Thank you, Melissa, really. I’m glad I have someone like you to help me through this,” he says, sincerity clear in his voice.

“Of course, Stiles. You know I’m here any time you need to talk.” A big smile lights up her face, “Plus, dealing with your problems is so much easier than Scott’s. I’ll take a bit of a sexual crisis over werewolves any day.”

Stiles laughs, the sound bubbling out of him, and Melissa follows along.

“Really, though, Stiles, thank you for trusting me enough to come to me for this. If you don’t mind me asking, who’s the boyfriend?”

Stiles was really hoping she wouldn’t ask that question, isn’t sure how she’s going to react to finding out she just told him to have sex with an older man, but he figures he owes it to her to tell her the truth. “Oh, it’s, uh, Derek. You know, Hale?”

Something Stiles can’t quite put his finger on but might be hurt passes over Melissa’s face in a flash, barely noticeable, before she responds, “You don’t have to lie, Stiles. I get it, you’re not comfortable telling me who it really is. That’s fine.” She looks at her watch and swears, already standing up to leave. “Sorry, baby, I have to get back to work.”

She leans down and plants a kiss on his forehead, and then she’s gone with a flourish before he can even really comprehend what just happened.

Stiles slumps forward, thumps his head on the table and groans.

Just this once, it would be nice if someone believed him.

* * *

3\. Sheriff (Six months into the relationship)

Of all the people he’s told so far—although can he _really_ call it ‘all the people’ when there have only been two?—he’s most nervous about telling his father. After the whole “you’re not gay” fiasco, he’s not really sure what to expect. He’s not exactly looking forward to explaining gay stereotypes to his father, and that just because he dresses a certain way doesn’t make him _not gay._

He finds his dad sitting at the kitchen table, poring over some case files. Any other time, Stiles would be more interested in whatever crime his dad is investigating, but his current situation takes precedent. Plus, he already snuck a peak at those files while his father was in the bathroom earlier, and the case isn’t that interesting, just some break in that has nothing to do with the supernatural.

“Hey, Dad, can we talk? It’s important.” He takes the seat at the table across from his dad, who’s now looking at him expectantly.

Noah closes the folder and pushes it to the side without breaking eye contact with Stiles. “What’s going on, Stiles? Is there something new in town I should be worried about?”

“No, no, this has nothing to do with the supernatural. It’s about me. I need you to listen to me while I say this, okay? Please just believe me.” Stiles takes a deep breath. “I’m gay.”

His dad sighs. “You’re not gay, Stiles.”

Stiles’ heart shatters just a little bit. “God, Dad, I asked you to believe me. I like guys.”

“I would know if you were gay, son. You’ve never shown interest in men before. Hell, you were in love with Lydia for most of your life!” the Sheriff argues, as if he would know Stiles’ sexuality better than Stiles himself.

“That wasn’t real love, it was infatuation with this idea of her I’d created in my head. And, as it turns out, not everyone comes out of the womb knowing they’re gay. It took some time for me to realize and accept it. But I am. And I need you to be okay with that.”

Noah sighs again. “Of course I’m okay with gay people, Stiles! You know that. I just don’t think _you’re_ gay.”

“I’m super gay! I have a boyfriend, Dad!” The outburst takes Stiles by surprise, but it’s out there, now. He _needs_ his dad to understand that he’s telling the truth, that for once in his life, he’s not lying for attention.

That stops his father right in his tracks. “What? Who?”

Oh boy, they’re doing this, then. Of course his father would want to know who he’s dating, of course. He was hoping to save this for another time, wanted to give his dad a little bit of time to get used to the idea of him being gay, didn’t want to overwhelm him with the fact that he’s not only gay but is also dating an older man who has been a suspect in multiple criminal cases. But it seems they’re going all in, now, the cat’s out of the bag—or, Stiles laughs to himself, the wolf is out of the bag.

“Derek Hale.”

Noah considers this for a moment. He doesn’t seem angry like Stiles thought he would be, which is weird. Stiles thought for sure he would have to beg and plead with his father to accept the relationship, but Noah isn’t reacting negatively at all. For a moment, Stiles thinks that maybe his father realizes he’s eighteen years old, almost nineteen, now, and is capable of making his own decisions as to who he dates. That hope is crushed when the Sheriff finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Alright, Stiles, you don’t have to pretend to be dating Hale to get me to believe you’re gay. I believe you.”

Stiles lets out a loud groan, startling his dad, who obviously wasn’t expecting that reaction. “I’m not pretending, Dad. I’m dating Derek. Have been for almost six months, now.”

“I said I believe you’re gay, Stiles. You can drop this fake boyfriend nonsense. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you first said it, but I do now, so you don’t have to pretend to have a boyfriend to get your point across.” He stands up and pats Stiles on the shoulder. “I love you, son.”

And then he walks out of the room, and, a few minutes later, Stiles hears the shower running. Stiles stands up so harshly and abruptly that the chair topples behind him from the force of him shoving it back. He leaves it, stalks out of the kitchen and up to his room.

So his dad believes him about being gay, that’s great, but if someone could just once believe _everything_ Stiles says without questioning it and making him feel bad, that would be swell.

* * *

4\. Isaac (Nine months into the relationship)

His friendship with Isaac is still tentative. They’ve been trying to get along for Scott’s sake, determined to become friends with one another in order to make Scott happy. Stiles has even more motivation now, in the form of Derek, who wants his boyfriend to get along with his beta. It’s hard, though, because Isaac is a bit of an asshole, and his particular brand of assholishness clashes with Stiles’. He’s _trying,_ though, and that’s what counts.

They’re on the lacrosse field, with Stiles lobbing balls at Isaac, who is trying to dodge them. He has an unfair advantage due to, y’know, being a werewolf, but Stiles is still having fun, even more so when Isaac doesn’t dodge fast enough and a ball makes contact with him.

Stiles isn’t sure if causing bodily harm is conducive to friendship, but he’s not about to ask Isaac if he wants to stop.

He’s winding up his arm, preparing to launch another ball, when Isaac jogs forward until he’s standing in front of Stiles. Stiles drops his equipment at their feet.

“I’m beat, man. You wanna go to a movie or something? We can see the new Marvel movie you’ve been raving about.”

Stiles opens his mouth, ready to agree because he’s been dying to see that movie and Derek refuses to go with him because he likes DC for some reason, but his phone goes off before he can speak. He pulls it out of his pocket, delighted to see a text from Derek, that delight fading when he sees what the message says.

“Shit, sorry, dude, I can’t tonight. I totally forgot I have a date with Derek.”

Isaac, much to Stiles’ surprise, bursts into laughter. Not quiet laughter, either, but the kind that’s so loud it echoes across the field, loud enough to be heard all the way up at the parking lot, Stiles thinks. Isaac doubles over, clenches his stomach as the laughter just keeps coming. When he finally starts to calm down and straightens back up, it starts all over again when he gets a look at Stiles.

“A date,” he manages to get out between laughs, “with Derek!”

There are tears streaming down Isaac’s face, and Stiles really doesn’t know what’s so funny, is actually starting to get pretty annoyed, when Isaac says, “As if!”

And that’s enough of that, Stiles decides. He storms off of the field, tossing a loud, “You’re a dick!” over his shoulder as he makes his way to where his jeep is parked.

Fuck his life, honestly.

* * *

5\. Lydia (One year into the relationship)

Stiles walks into his bedroom after his shower, towel wrapped around his waist, and promptly screams when he sees Lydia sitting on his bed. A few years ago, this would have been like a fantasy coming to life. As it is now, he’s just a little annoyed.

“For fuck’s sake, Lydia, how did you even get in?” Which is a stupid question, because this is Lydia, she can do anything she puts her mind to. His hold on the towel tightens just a bit as he hikes it up some, unwilling to let this become even more embarrassing by letting the stupid thing fall.

She ignores his question and gets straight to the point, “I found a date for you tonight. You know Melanie from History? She thinks you’re cute, so I told her you’d meet her at the diner tonight.”

Stiles’ brain gets caught on the fact that someone thinks he’s cute, doesn’t even register what else Lydia had said until—“Wait a minute, you did what? I don’t need a date!”

She gives him an incredibly unimpressed look. “Melanie is really cute, and I think you guys will be good together. Just give it a chance.”

“But I–” he splutters, unsure of what to even say. “I have a boyfriend! I don’t need a date!”

“Oh, Stiles, honey. You don’t have to lie because you’re nervous about dating. I’m sure you’ll love Melanie.”

“Unless she has a penis and is named Derek, I most definitely _won’t_ love her.”

The look Lydia gives him is full of pity. “Stiles, I’m worried about you. Scott _and_ Isaac both told me what you said about dating Derek, and now you’re saying it to me. You don’t have to lie, okay? And maybe I got it wrong by setting you up with a girl, that’s my fault and I apologize for it, I didn’t realize you don’t like girls at all, but we can still find you a boy you can actually date. It’s not healthy to lie like this.”

Stiles can’t even process what’s happening right now. His so-called friends have been talking about him behind his back, so convinced that he’s lying about being with Derek that they felt the need to what, stage an intervention in the form of a date with _Melanie?_

“I’m not lying!” Stiles shouts. He really wishes he was wearing more than just a towel, can’t gesture with his arms like he wants to for fear of the towel falling, which would absolutely not help the situation. “Derek and I have been together for a year! We literally just celebrated our anniversary!”

“Then why have we never seen you kiss? Or even act like a couple? I’m worried about you. A delusion like this isn’t healthy.”

“For the love of–I’m not delusional, Lydia! No one has seen us kiss because Derek isn’t a fan of public displays of affection. Have you met the man before? He’s not exactly the most open person out there. He prefers to keep private stuff _private_ , and so do I. We shouldn’t have to be all over each other for you guys to just _believe me about this._ ”

“Have you even considered how this lie is affecting Derek? It’s not okay for you to take advantage of his name like that. I get it, you lie because you want to make yourself seem better, and dating a man who looks like that obviously makes you look good, but you’re our friend, and we know you, and we know you’re not dating Derek. You have to stop this.”

He grazes over the fact that she basically just said that someone who looks like him would never get a man like Derek, which is hurtful, and focuses on the real issue. “Stop _what?_ Lydia, listen to me when I say this: I am dating Derek Hale. We started dating at the beginning of Senior year. We have been together for a year now. We’re _happy._ ”

She stands up from the bed and wraps her arms around him, something would have made him die and go to heaven two years ago, but now it just makes him sick. She’s only hugging him because she thinks he’s _actually delusional._

“We’ll get through this, Stiles. We can go to the club and find you a cute guy.” She pulls away from the hug and has the audacity to smile at him, as if she’s doing him a favor. And he gets it, okay, he lies a lot, but he’s never outright denied lying when someone called him out. He’s always straightforward about it if he’s caught, and yet they still don’t believe him, even when he’s telling the truth.

“Get out,” he says, voice ice cold. “I don’t want to go to a club because I already have a boyfriend, and it’s really hurting me that you don’t believe me. So please, just go.”

She makes a hurt noise—as if she has any right to be hurt, Stiles thinks—but steps away from him nonetheless. Her heels clack on the hardwood floors as she leaves, the sound growing fainter and fainter the further she gets, until finally they stop and he hears the front door open and close.

When Stiles is sure she’s really gone, he grabs the closest thing he can find, which happens to be a mug full of pens from his desk, and launches it at the wall. The pens go flying every which direction before the mug even makes contact with the wall. Ceramic shards bounce off the wall and cover his floor, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment. Instead, he flops onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow and letting out a long guttural scream.

 _I'm going to show them,_ he thinks,

* * *

1\. Stiles and Derek make them believe.

The morning after his fight with Lydia, Stiles shows up to Derek’s loft unannounced. Derek doesn’t mind, obviously, is always happy to see Stiles—plus, Stiles practically lives at the loft these days, it’s basically his home too—but that happiness quickly turns to concern when he sees Stiles’ face.

He’s up and across the room before Stiles can even really make it into the loft, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Stiles’ neck. Stiles holds onto Derek for dear life, presses his face in Derek’s chest to muffle the tears that just won’t seem to stop.

“What’s wrong?” Derek murmurs.

Stiles breaks away from him and begins pacing, a sure sign that he’s just as pissed as he is sad.

“No one believes me. Every time I tell someone I’m dating you, they _laugh_ like it’s some joke! Like I’m lying for attention! And I get it, okay, I do, because I lie a lot, I know that, but I would never lie about _this._ I love you and no one believes that and I’m just so sick of it.”

Derek grabs hold of Stiles again to stop the pacing. He puts a hand on each of Stiles’ shoulders, looks him in the eye as he says, “Stiles, baby, it’s okay. I’ll call them here and tell them myself, okay?”

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, because it sets Stiles off again.

“No, it can’t be you who tells them. They have to believe _me._ I have to show them that I was telling the truth this whole time.”

“How about we tell them together?” Derek asks. Stiles thinks about it for a second, nods his acceptance. Derek, suddenly looking nervous, says, “I have an idea, and it’s crazy, it’s absolutely crazy, but I was going to ask you anyways–”

“Derek, you’re rambling,” Stiles interrupts. “That’s usually my job. What are you suggesting? What’s your crazy idea?”

Derek doesn’t answer. He kisses Stiles quickly, a barely there touch of lips, and then he’s bounding out of the room and up the stairs to the bedroom. Stiles steps forward to follow, but Derek is back before Stiles even makes it to the foot of the stairs.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he says, and Stiles is confused for all of about two seconds before he sees what Derek’s holding in his hand. The box is black, and nestled inside is a thick black ring with a thin stripe of dark red going through the middle. Stiles immediately starts crying again, this time for an entirely different reason. “I want to marry you.”

“I want to marry you, too,” Stiles sobs, making grabby hands at the ring. Derek laughs, pushing his hands away.

“Let me finish. I know it’s only been a year, and I know your father is going to shoot me when he finds out, but it’s worth it, _you’re_ worth it. I love you. I want to spend my life with you, and I want all of your idiot friends to know that we’re together.”

Derek takes the ring out of the box and Stiles wastes no time yanking it out of Derek’s grasp and slipping it onto his own finger. It sits heavy on his hand, an unfamiliar weight that Stiles is sure he’s going to grow to love. There’s a stark contrast between his pale white skin and the solid black ring.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say,” Stiles chokes out, a laugh bubbling out of him, slightly watery sounding from all the crying he’s been doing. “I don’t want to wait. I want to get married today.”

“Are you sure? This isn’t just because you want to prove to your friends you’re being honest?” Derek questions. “We don’t have to rush, being engaged is proof enough of how stupid they were being.”

“No,” Stiles says, “I want to marry you today. I love you. I want to be your husband and I don’t want to wait.”

He grabs Stiles’ hand, the one with the ring on it, rubs his thumb over the ring a few times. Pure, unadulterated happiness is written clear on his face.

“Okay,” Derek agrees, “Let’s do it today.”

 

The county clerk’s office is relatively empty when the get there. There’s only one person at the counter when Stiles and Derek step inside. They wait in line for two minutes before it’s their turn. The woman at the desk waves them forward, a smile on her face.

“How can I help you today?”

“We need a marriage license,” Stiles tells her.

She reaches to the side and grabs some papers. “Alright, dears, just fill out this application and we’ll get you that license.”

Stiles and Derek fill out the papers in what must be record time, not wanting to waste a single second. They hand them back to the woman, who asks for proof of identification. They happily give hand over their driver’s licenses.

“Okay, boys, let me go get this sorted out for you.” She walks away, leaving Stiles and Derek alone in the lobby.

Stiles leans against Derek’s side, his face pressed into Derek’s shoulder. He breathes him in, the scent of the woods and Derek’s cologne filling his nose. He can’t wait to smell that for the rest of his life.

“I can’t wait to be married to you,” he tells Derek, because he feels it’s important for Derek to know just how excited he is, important for him to know that he’s not just doing this so people finally believe him about being with Derek.

Derek pulls Stiles even closer to his body, squeezing him just this side of too tight, but Stiles doesn’t even care. He’s too blissed out at this point to care about anything, he thinks.

“I can’t wait to be married to you, too,” Derek tells him earnestly, then jokes, “We can wait forever to tell your dad, though.”

“I think he’s going to get suspicious when I move all of my stuff into your place and stop coming home. He is a cop, after all. I think he might pick up on me living with you pretty quickly, and after that it’s only a matter of time before he finds out we’re married.” Stiles stops for a moment to consider. “No, I think we should tell him as soon as possible. Maybe you should stay home, though. He can’t shoot you if you’re not right in front of him.”

“We’ll do it together, Stiles, as husbands.”

“ _Husbands,”_ Stiles sighs dreamily.

The woman comes back with a new paper in her hands. “This is your marriage license. Your officiant will fill it out and send it back to us to file it. Do you have any questions?” Stiles and Derek both shake their heads. “Alright. That’ll be $60.”

Derek hands over the cash and takes the marriage license.

“I hope you boys have a happy marriage. Good luck.”

They both say their thanks as they make their way out of the building. The courthouse is, conveniently enough, right across the street from the clerk’s office. They jog across the street, quickly making their way into the building and following the signs that tell them where they need to go. Stiles is practically shaking with excitement when they finally reach their destination.

“We’d like to get married,” Stiles tells the man sitting at the desk.

“Sure thing,” the man says as he turns to look at his computer. “It looks like we have an opening just a few minutes from now. Does that work for you, or are you waiting for others to arrive?”

“Now works fine.”

“Okay. Do you have a witness, or do you need us to provide one?”

“Oh, uh, we didn’t even think about finding a witness. I guess we need one provided.”

“Not a problem. If you could just give me your names, I’ll add you to the schedule.” They tell him their names. “Do you have your marriage license?”

Derek hands the paper over.

“Your officiant will fill this out after the wedding and send it to be filed. You should receive your finalized marriage certificate within the next ten days. Any questions?” Stiles shakes his head. “You can go wait on the benches, then. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and pulls him to the bench, sitting as close as physically possible without actually sitting in his lap, his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“We’re getting married, Derek. Less than five minutes from now we’re going to be married.” Stiles is vibrating from the excitement, unable to sit still. “God, Dad’s going to kill me, and I don’t even care.”

“I’d prefer not to be a widower so soon, Stiles.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s going to kill you too. At least we’ll die happy.”

Before Derek can reply, a door opens and a man is saying, “Derek Hale and, uh, M–”

Stiles cuts him off, “Yeah, don’t even try, man, you won’t get it right. That’s us. Ready, Derek?”

Derek doesn’t answer, instead chooses to just grab Stiles’ hand and pull him into the room behind the man who called their names. The room is pretty standard, not fancy like a real wedding would be, but there is a little archway at the front of the room they can stand under.

“My name is Michael, I’m going to be officiating your wedding,” the man introduces, then points to another man standing at the front of the room, “and this is Daniel, your witness.”

Stiles pulls out his phone and hands it to Daniel, asks, “Could you take some pictures, please?” And he’s sure they’re going to be the worst wedding photos in existence, what with him wearing a Captain America t-shirt and jeans and Derek wearing his typical Henley and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee. They don’t exactly fit the image of grooms, he admits, they could have made more of an effort to dress nicer, but this feels more like _them_ than some fancy suits would. No matter how the photos turn out, Stiles is sure they’re going to be cherished for the rest of their lives.

Michael directs them to stand under the arch and he takes his place in front of them.

“Would you like to say your own vows?”

Stiles didn’t really think about this, was too busy thinking about getting married to actually focus on something like vows, but he finds himself nodding.

“I’ll go first,” he says, then stops talking because he can’t actually think of anything to say. King of rambling, at a loss for words. He’s taken back to months ago, to his talk with Melissa where he struggled to find the right words, thinks about what he told her. There’s a lump in his throat and he’s fighting back tears once again as he speaks. “Right. I’ve never been in love with someone the way I am with you. I thought I loved Lydia, you know? But now I know how foolish I was, thinking that was love. What you and I have, that’s love. Love isn’t blind infatuation, it’s raw and messy and, quite frankly, it’s terrifying. It’s terrifying to know that you hold my heart in your hands. But I trust that you would never intentionally hurt me, and that’s what makes it all worth it. I trust you with my life, Derek, and I trust you with my heart, and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

Tears stream down Stiles’ face and Derek reaches up to wipe them away. Stiles leans into the touch, presses his face against Derek’s hand.

“You know I’m not good with words,” Derek starts, “and you know how screwed up my life has been. After Kate–” Derek cuts himself off, steels himself before continuing, “After Kate, I didn’t think I could love again. Didn’t think I was capable of it. But then you came into my life, a hurricane that disrupted my entire being, and I fell in love with you without even realizing it. You help me be a better person, and you help me see light in a world I used to think was nothing but darkness. _You_ bring light into my life. I can’t wait to be your husband. I can’t wait to show you every day just how much I love you.”

Derek’s crying now too, something Stiles has never seen before, both of them damn near sobbing, holding onto each other’s hands for dear life.

“Do you have rings to exchange?” Michael asks.

Derek reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring he gave Stiles earlier. He slides the ring back onto Stiles finger, which was already beginning to feel naked after just a few hours of having it off. Stiles, in turn, takes a matching ring out of his own pocket. They had stopped at the jewelers before going to get the marriage license, were lucky enough to find the exact ring in Derek’s size. He slides the new ring onto Derek’s ring finger, marveling at how it looks against his tan skin.

“By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husbands. The grooms may kiss,” Michael declares, and Stiles wastes no time grabbing Derek by the face and smashing his mouth against Derek’s. Objectively, it’s kind of disgusting, because Stiles most definitely has snot running down the lower half of his face, but it’s also the best kiss Stiles has had in his entire life.

“I love you so much,” Derek murmurs when they break apart. He leans his forehead against Stiles’, and the two take a moment to just breathe each other in. Stiles presses one last chaste kiss to Derek’s lips before breaking away completely.

Daniel approaches with Stiles’ phone in hand. “I took a video, as well. Seems like something you might want to watch in the future.”

“Thank you so much,” Stiles says to Daniel, then turns to face Michael. “Is there anything else we need to do?”

“No, you’re both free to go. I’ll sign your marriage license and send it off for you.” He shakes both Derek and Stiles’ hands. “Congratulations, gentlemen. I wish both of you the best of luck in your marriage.”

Standing outside of the building, Stiles grabs Derek’s left hand with his own and positions them in a way where both of their rings are visible. He snaps a picture with his phone and adds it to the gallery of the other pictures from the ceremony.

“Which one do you like best?” He hands the phone to Derek, who scrolls for a minute before clicking on a photo and handing it back to Stiles. Stiles looks at the picture and grins. In the photo, Derek and Stiles are standing facing each other, bodies leaning towards one another and Derek has one hand pressed to Stiles’ cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Both men are smiling, great big smiles that stretch across their faces and crinkle their eyes. It’s a tender moment, that much is clear, between two people who love and cherish each other. “Good choice, dude.”

“I’m your husband, Stiles, don’t call me dude.”

“I’m going to continue calling you dude, and we’re married now so there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You’re stuck with me, dude.”

Derek lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

Stiles creates a group chat with Scott, Isaac, and Lydia. He attaches the two images, the one Derek chose and the one Stiles took of their rings, and sends them along with the message _“Do you believe me now?”_ He turns his phone off as soon as it sends.

“Okay, husband, let’s go to the diner and have a big ‘ol greasy honeymoon dinner.” An evil grin makes its way onto his face. “And then, after, we can go tell my dad what we did today.”

Derek groans, but the fear of the Sheriff doesn’t really diminish his good mood. He throws an arm over Stiles’ shoulder, pulls him in close, leans down to press a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head, and, together, the two make their way down the street in front of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Is getting married the appropriate response to people not believing you’re in a relationship? No. Is it a good idea? Probably not. But Stiles is young and in love and it’s what I wanted so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I want everyone to know that the final part of this was originally going to be Stiles showing his friends that he's dating Derek by asking them to come over and then having sex on the couch in the loft so they walk in on that. Not entirely sure how I went from that to eloping. Who knows, I might add another part to this so I can still write that idea.
> 
> [This](https://www.etsy.com/listing/263225562/mens-wedding-band-red-black-wedding-ring) is what I imagine their rings look like.


End file.
